


the touch of a ghost (or many)

by imnotanironwall



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Implied Saïx/Xigbar, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotanironwall/pseuds/imnotanironwall
Summary: Demyx hears something he isn't supposed to and, despite his best wishes, his own arousal gets the best of him.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	the touch of a ghost (or many)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luxubar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxubar/gifts), [thoughquaking (xigithy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xigithy/gifts).



> Sequel to [starry night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000867).
> 
> Very brief mention of Demyx/Xemnas, Demyx/Xigbar, Demyx/Axel as part of the sexual fantasies.

He did not deserve such a treatment, Demyx decided as he roamed the hallways of the Castle that Never Was. He may have been slacking, yes, but _come on_ , he was benched! What was he supposed to do while everyone was away? _If an occupation is what you desire_ , Xemnas had said, barely looking at him, _then bring back number Two and number Seven_ . And so Demyx was stuck searching for the two men that were _somewhere_ in the Castle and yet he couldn’t find them _anywhere_.

There was no one in the castle. No one but Xemnas and the dusks, he knew, he checked _every_ possible room. With a desperate sigh, he turned into the last corridor: empty, like all the others. “Saïx?” He called out, without any hope, using his hands as a megaphone.

He waited. No response, as expected. He called out for the other man. “Xigbar?” And when he was once again met with silence, he grunted before yelling out the window in frustration. “Dudes! Where the fuck are you?”

_He should have brought his sitar along_ , he thought as he crossed his arms against his chest. He had thought it’d be just a quick detour, could even relegate his task to Saïx if he found the man first (because it’s usually _his_ job), but Saïx was simply nowhere to be found. And, as much as he loved her, he was not about to risk being reprimanded by Xemnas just to get his sitar back. He was too exhausted to deal with pointed gaze and sultry voice, he just _couldn’t_. 

He backed against the wall and sighed once again. Well, at the very least he could nap. No one came up here anyway, and he doubted Xemnas would try searching for him -- really, Demyx would bet he just wanted him out of his hair. His head hit the wall behind him as he closed his eyes and breathed in, as he slid down until his ass met the floor. Cold, hard, absolutely the worst spot to nap, but oh well. It would have to do.

And then he heard it. 

“ _Xigbar-_ ”

He recognized the voice immediately, heard it one too many times reprimanding him for being lazy and handing too short and incomplete reports. His ears perked up. 

“But I _want_ him to hear **you** .” The sound sent chills down his spine and straight to his groin. It was a different voice, another one he knew too well, but the tone was different from what he was used to (or at least to what he was used to hearing in _recent_ months). So this was where they were.

“ _Fuck._ ” Demyx bit his lips. He wasn’t supposed to hear this -- or was he? He knew of Xigbar’s tendencies to put on a show, he fancied a bit of exhibitionism and got off on the thrill to be caught. But to think Saïx - the cold, hardened, rigid, severe Saïx,- would be into it as well? 

He could feel himself harden in his pants.

If he had been wiser, he would have left immediately. They were outside, presumably, but it didn’t mean he had the right to invade their moment of intimacy. But Instead, he decided to stay, blush creeping onto his cheeks as he pressed his legs together to contain any trace of excitement. Like Xigbar had said, he _wanted_ Demyx to hear.

As he started to pay attention, the moans and obscene sounds reached his ears with ease. The slap of hips against hips, the wetness of one’s inside, the rustle of fabric as clothes get discarded to touch more and more. Oh, and the moans. The moans were heavenly. The shaky breaths, the quiet whispers, and suppressed whimpers. He could feel his own nails dig into his flesh as he heard Xigbar’s groan, so distinct and peculiar; a sound he had missed so much. 

By the time he realized, his own hands had glided down his coat and now rested on his groin. He was fully hard under his pants and it almost hurt. He wanted to relieve himself so badly. He knew he shouldn’t---

_To hell with this_.

Lazily, though with a certain eagerness to his movements, he pulled down his pants just enough to finally, _finally_ free his aching cock. He sighed as freezing air caressed his skin and, as he closed his eyes, he could almost feel a sneer pressed against his shoulder. 

“ _How indecent, getting off on your colleagues having sex,_ ” the voice in his head said, long black and grey hair free from their usual ponytail now brushing against his neck. “ _Well, we wouldn’t want to let it go to waste, wouldn’t we?_ ”

He wrapped a hand around himself and, in his mind’s eye, the fingers were larger, rougher; past partners not forgotten. He felt the breath on his skin, the kisses on his stomach, the hand tugging at his hair to expose his throat and mark, mark, mark. 

He breathed out. 

“Saïx, fu--” He heard Xigbar say, and his grip tightened involuntarily. 

He started stroking at a leisurely pace, teasing the tip with his thumb, using his nails to lightly graze the skin and send shivers down his spine. He bit back a moan.

“ _What a whore_ ,” he imagined a voice say, fiery keyblade lifting his shin until his head hit the wall behind him, emerald eyes underlined by purple tears looking down on him. “ _Getting yourself all worked up on your own, you look so pitiful._ ” 

His other hand slid past his undershirt and up to his chest. He grazed against his nipple and sighed, pleasure overtaking him, legs quivering as he held back any noise from escaping. He could see the phantom of Axel bending down over him in the corner of his eyes. “ _Lemme see more of you_ .” He spread his legs instantly. “ _Good boy_ ”. 

He choked on a whimper as he fondled his chest some more, nails dragging against his nipples and pinching them relentlessly as he started stroking himself. The sensation was immediate relief and he could feel himself sliding further down the wall and to the ground as he rolled himself on his side to hide his face in his coat. 

How he missed playing around with Axel ( _Lea_ , _now_ , he reminded himself). How he missed being held and pinned down and _used_. The current inhabitants of the Castle didn’t have much time for him anymore, even though he wished for slender fingers and broad shoulders to push him down on a bed or take him against the wall and spread his legs without care and--

“ _Disgusting_ ,” he imagined the deep sultry voice that haunted both his dream and his daily life say. He stroked harder. “ _An absolute disgrace_ .” He whimpered in his coat, eyes pressing shut as he willed himself to stay quiet. “ _Let everyone hear how pathetic you are_.”

His lips parted and a moan immediately escaped him, quiet and restrained. He applied more pressure against his chest, pinching his nipples harder as he increased the speed of his strokes. So close, so close--

“ _Number Nine_.”

With a broken moan, his body tensed and his toes curled as he finally gave in to the heat building up between his legs. His vision clouded white and for a moment he completely forgot where he was as he stroked himself to completion. 

“Gods, gods, gods, fuck--” He cried out as his back arched off the ground. The sensation of relief and peace washed over him and he let himself fall onto his back, chest heaving as he struggled to find his breathing. 

He eventually opened his eyes to the stark white ceiling of the castle, of the hallway, and sighed as he lifted his hand to look at his messy and sticky release. “Well, that happened,” he sighed, before letting his hand fall back to his side. 

With his other hand, he summoned some water to quickly clean himself up and then tucked himself back into his pants. He patted himself on the cheeks, heat still radiating from them as he pulled himself to his feet. He scratched the back of his neck as he looked out the window to the broken city outside the Castle, the task that brought him here in the first place completely forgotten. “Guess I’ll go fetch Arpeggio now.”

After stretching and popping the bones of his aching back, he left the ghost of wishful and unrequited lovers behind and headed for the nearest path to the common room. Hopefully, he wouldn’t meet anyone but uncaring dusks on his way.


End file.
